The _bouquineur_, a sour fellow whose trade had evidently suffered in recent months, would by no means allow me to look at it till I had paid the five sous he demanded, which I was glad enough to do. And after a very little study I found the Quai Necker marked down near the cathedral; and having carefully noted its bearings, I carried my map to a stall higher up, where I sold it for eight sous, thus making one of the most profitable bargains I ever struck. Before dark, and while all Paris was ringing with the news that the twenty-two unfortunate Girondists were to be executed next morning, I found myself standing in a shabby passage beside the river, under the shadow of the great cathedral of Notre Dame. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. THE OVERTURNED DILIGENCE IN THE RUE SAINT ANTOINE. For a night or two I haunted the Quai without success. If Mr Lestrange really lived there, he was either too fearful of venturing out, or some misadventure had already befallen him. I durst not make any inquiries, for fear of attracting attention to him, which was the last thing any one desired just then. At last one night, after a week's patient waiting, and when the lightness of my own, or rather poor Cassidy's purse reminded me that I should soon have to seek, among other things, for my daily bread, I was skulking off for my lodging, when a woman hurried past me, whom, in the momentary glimpse I got of her, I recognised as Biddy McQuilkin, my father's old gossip of Kerry Keel. "Whisht, Biddy," said I, laying my hand on her arm, "is it you? Sure, I'm Barry Gallagher, and I'm looking for your master, Mr Lestrange." She gave a gasp of terror as she felt my hand on her. "Saints help us! what a fright you gave me, Barry, my boy. Sure, it's not safe to be seen speaking with any one in the streets. I'm told there's fifty more to die to-morrow!" "I'll follow you; you needn't fear me; and I've a message for the master." "Thank God for that, if it's a good one!" said she. "Keep close on the other side, and mark where I go in. I will leave the door open; we are on the top stage." And she darted across the road. I kept her well in view, till she disappeared at the door of a tall, dingy house of some six stories high. The bottom floor was occupied by a seller of wreaths and candles for worshippers at the cathedral--a poor enough business in those days. Above him was a dresser of frills and lace shirt-fronts; and above this were various tenants, some with callings, some with none, all apparently needy, and glad of the chance of hiding in so economical a tenement. A list of the occupants was hung on the door, by order of the Convention, and the names of _Lestrange, femme, et domestique_, duly figured upon it. A common staircase led to all the floors, but I encountered no one as I toiled to the top of all, where stood Biddy, with her finger up, motioning to me to be silent.